How do Trolls become grey?
by BlackRobin7
Summary: Hi, I'm Poppy! When I was six years old I forgot to get grey paper to make a mini Branch, how could I have forgotten about him? And why did my dad insist that I use blue paper instead?
1. Chapter 1

How do Trolls become grey? It's something I've always wondered, honestly. I mean, I've only ever known one grey troll and I remember once, only once, over hearing my dad talk about it. I must have been a least six at the time, but I remember it, clear as rain. I was laying on the floor of our bright pink pond cutting up shapes out of colored paper to make mini versions of all my friends. Of course, everyone's my friend, so I needed to have every color, shade, tint, and sparkle that I could get my little fingers on to do it right. A few more cuts here and there, a little more glue, and I did it! I had successively (and crudely) made tiny little figures of everyone in Troll Village! Awwww! I was so proud of my accomplishment, I was giggling and beaming up at my father. I was so excited that I had remembered every one, yep! Every last troll…

Then I realized that I didn't.

Oh, I can still see my look in my dad's eyes when did a complete shift from happy giddiness, to me spilling over fat tears of pure guilt. Wow, I can still feel it too. The shame of forgetting a troll, I had left one behind and I didn't even realize it. I didn't even have any grey paper! I had black and white, glitter silver, glitter gold, brown, dark purple, lavender, periwinkle, but no grey. My dad picked me up and started saying something as he hugged me, but how would that make the fact that I forgot about the one troll that needed hugs the most any better.

I wiggled as much as I could wiggle and forced my way out of his arms, I needed to find the right color to make Branch. I needed to include him, no troll was going to be left behind if I had anything to say about it. I guess I shocked my dad a little bit given that I, out of all Trolls, wanted out of a hug. He stayed silent for a few minutes and he just watched me, probably wondering what I was so worried about, not that I remember what he was saying during the hug in the first place. The longer I looked the more frantic my search became, at this point I was practically scolding myself for using what grey I did have on a picture of the Snackpack dancing in the rain.

Finally, I spun around as fast as I could manage towards my dad and with as much urgency as I could muster in my little voice I cried out. "I can't find any!" a sob threatening to overtake my words as I fruitlessly looked back and forth, hoping by some miracle to catch any glimpse of grey in the brightly colored room. My dad carefully knelt down in front of me, forcing me to look at him and not at what I've already checked a dozen times. "Poppy…" he asked calmly, probably trying to use his soothing voice to calm my racing mind. "…sweetheart, what are you looking for?"

"BRANCH!" I shout, then I quickly look down, fidgeting with my fingers under my fathers concerned stare. "I…uh…I mean…I can't find any grey, I need grey, he'sgreyandIdon'thaveanyandIdidntthinkaboutgettinganybecausei.." my voice lowered to a whisper because I didn't even want to admit to the horrible crime I had just committed against all Troll kind "..I.*sniffle*I forgot him…" The sob that I has trying to hold back finally found its way out and it tore through my little heart. This is the part where my brain was told to hold the record button, it wasn't my sobbing or even my destress over the lack of the color grey, It was the look on my father's face. As I stood there hiccupping and sniffling for the life of me, my father was somewhere else. His eyes were looking through me, to a place I don't remember, flooded with regret and sorrow. These were not emotions I've never seen before, I've been to one or two funerals at this point in my life and I knew about the Bergens and what they did, but what did any of that have to do with Branch? More tears and escaped from my tiny body, which pilled my dad out of whatever moment he was reliving. He stuttered for a second before scooping me up in his arms once again for a hug, this time felt different though, as if it was my dad that needed the hug. So, without a word I wrapped my pudgy arms around his chest as much as I could, just because I was sad didn't mean anyone else had to be.

After a few more seconds of hug time my father sat me back on the floor and looked me in the eyes, about to tell me what I could only assume would the magical answer to all my problems. "Well…if you've run out of Grey…why don't you use a different color to make Branch?"

Wait what?

That…that was not at all what I expected to hear. I wasn't going to make Branch a different color! Just because he's not as bright as the rest of us doesn't mean that he shouldn't been shown for who he is, right? Yes! Right, that's not the answer. "uh…but Daddy…Branch is grey. Why would I not make him grey?" That look came back, this time with others but he tried to play it down. My dad was never good at holding back or hiding his emotions. "Yeah, I mean, no..uh why don't you give him another color? Yeah, one that he might like just as much as his grey." Dad looked almost…wishful. I blinked up at him. "like what? Branch told me before that he likes the way he is?" my father cringed. "Oh, no no no, I'm not saying that he doesn't like being grey sweetheart, but uh, maybe he wouldn't mind if you made him look…oh I don't know, maybe…. blue?"

I stare at him with blinking, bewildered eyes, and with every ounce of six-year-old logic I could collect I looked my dad in the eyes and very confidently said "Daddy…Branch isn't even a little bit blue." He shifted a little to the side, looking down at the ground. "No, no he-he's a little blue, just a little, but it's there." I shook my head because no, Branch wasn't blue. I was honestly confused whether or not we were talking about two different Trolls. I stood up, though I still didn't reach over my father's eyes, and said as clear as I could, hoping to get him to understand that I'm talking about Branch. Branch and only Branch, not another blue troll but grey Branch. "No Daddy I'm talking about BRANCH, grey Branch. I know you know him, you know everyone too!" I reach my hand up to the top of my father's head. "He's about this tall, he has black hair, grey eyes, and grey skin. Branch is not Blue and he's never been blue, Branch has always been grey and he will never be blue. Branch doesn't like dancing or singing, and he's ALWAYS telling me to quiet down or else a Bergen will hear me!" This time I didn't almost miss it, this time he didn't even try to hide it. The image that I couldn't see from before hit my father full force and he stood straight up. he gave a short, forced laugh and shook his head. "Oh, haha that's right poppy, I guess I always just saw Branch as blue in my mind for some reason. *cough* Now, why don't you get ready for bed…" He gently guided me to my room not even asking me to pick up my scrap booking mess. "We'll go get more grey materials for you tomorrow so you can finish it up then, ok sweetheart. I'll be in to say good night in just a moment dear." After I was rushed to get ready for bed and he said good night and I would have to be crazy to not know that something was off. Why did I have to go to bed so early? Why does he see grey Branch as blue in his head? Why was he so insistent on it? Why didn't he make me clean up my toys? There were so many questions and right when my head felt like it was going to explode there was a knock on the door.

"Peppy? Peppy can I come in?"

Soft footsteps from the other room and a soft murmuring was enough to get me off of my bed and crawling on the floor like a ninja. Carefully, I peeked around the corner into the living room. It was Miss Guffin that had knocked on the door. She was sitting in a chair and she was sipping tea from a cup that I didn't recognize, and thankfully, they were both faced away from me.

"…no, no, no. Everything's fine, really. The shouting was just Poppy…making a point." My father rested his head in his hands like he had a headache and shook it as if to clear it. "Oh, my dear" Miss Guffin softly chuckled, stirring her tea with a lollipop. "That must have been a doozy of a debate, both of you are so headstrong. Whatever was it about?" she took a sip and decided that it needed another lollipop. It was a good thing then that she seemed to have an endless supply of them hidden in her heart shaped hair. Dad took a deep breath and said one word that, between the two of them, must have explained everything. "Branch." Currently in mid sip Miss Guffin sounded as if she was about to choke on her candy laced drink. She coughed a few times and carefully set it down on the small coffee table next to her chair.

"Peppy dear, I have to confess. From your posture and the volume of Poppy earlier, I'm a little worried to ask. What kind of point was she trying to make?" My father sat up straighter and once again shook his head. "Oh no, she wasn't saying anything against the boy. Well…it started because she didn't have any grey paper left to make a little figure of him. She was crying and she was thinking horribly about herself because she had forgotten him. So, I suggested, while in hindsight this was not the best decision I've ever had. I suggested that if she didn't have any grey left that she could use a different color, specifically... Blue." Miss Guffin just sat there listening, stirring her tea with her second, third lollipop? My father let out a dry laugh and continued. "I bet you can see how that went. Poppy of course, hated the idea. Not that I blame her, if someone made her yellow instead of pink because they forgot about her, It wouldn't seem fair now would it?" Miss Guffin lowered her cup onto her lap and waited a moment, letting silence hang in the air for not a second too long before she started. "Do you think...Do you think that they should know? Do you think we should tell the children about what makes a Troll turn grey? It might make things easier on the child if the other children new what he was going through. Perhaps we could even tell them ho.."

"No". My dad was quick to snuff out Miss Guffins idea. I didn't understand, Trolls turn grey? Did Branch Turn grey? How did it happen? How does it happen? Will he ever not be grey? Why was I never told this!? Then of course, there's my dad with the magical answers. "If we were to tell the children that Branch wasn't always grey and why he became grey in the first place, they would become relentless. They would never leave him alone, they would poke and prod at him, and while all they would be trying to do is help, they would only be pushing him away. Branch needs time and he needs to know that even though he's not like everyone else, he's accepted for who he is and that he is always welcome." Miss Guffin looked down at her lap and sighed "I just want him to be happy…" She then carefully stood up and walked toward the door. With one hand on the door nob and the other on her empty tea cup she turned back around after thinking of one final thing to say. "I miss Rosiepuff as much as you do, but are you sure that "Alone Time" is the best thing for him right now? After all he's been through?" Her words hung in the air and it almost seemed as if my father wasn't going to respond, But Miss Guffin stayed by the door, waiting until her king replied. "Right now, that's all we can do." And that was that, Miss Guffin left without another word and I carefully snuck back to bed. I now had a hundred more questions and almost no answers. Who's RosiePuff? How long will it take for Branch to get better? What's wrong with Branch? If he stays grey will something bad happen to him? Am I not allowed to try to hug him anymore? No, nothing could get me to stop trying to hug him. While I didn't have the answers I wanted at that moment, I had gained a personal mission that I'm still on. Dad said that grey Trolls need to feel accepted and welcome? Done! And he was right about what he said all those years ago, whether for good or for bad, I will be relentless about it. Branch has and always will be getting invitations from me and he will always be welcome to any and all Troll related events. I remember that when I was actually able to get myself to fall asleep I dreamed of trees made from grey craft paper, A all blue Branch laughing and fighting off Bergens, with the last words I thought to myself that day swirling around and around. How does a Troll become Grey?


	2. Chapter 2

After that night, I kept my promise. I would go out of my way to remind Branch that he was welcome, just in case he forgot since I last talked to him the day before. In Art class, I would make sure to complement anything he made (even the one or two times it was a little too much on the dark side and the teacher had to step in) and on days that he just sat there, looking off into the distance instead of paying attention to our Troll Tree care lessons, I would visit his Foster Pod with warm chocolate cookies and a jar of apple cider. On these days, we would sit on the floor and quietly play board games. I think he welcomed the distraction and the warm sweets. Our games could even get a little competitive if we let them go on long enough, but that hardly ever happened because he was sure to send me back home before it got too late. Sometimes my dad would come with me to check up on Branch when he's feeling especially down. He would talk, and talk, and talk about the things he would do at our age and tell funny stories about his friends throughout the years. He may of avoided the topic of Trollstice and the Bergens, but that doesn't mean that I didn't notice that certain names stopped popping up as he talked through the years. He would stay with us until Branch fell asleep, and then he would tuck him in like he usually did with me. Once, I caught him whispering what sounded like an apology to Branch while tucking him in when he thought we were both asleep. The only part's from it that I actually remember hearing were the words "…I'm sorry….grey….Rosiepuff…"

I don't know who this Rosiepuff is and as curious as I am about her, I can't dwell on it when there are so many other things about Branch.

I like to think that these game and story nights helped and maybe they did, but not as a cure or even a helping hand in opening up to people, it was more of a delay. I saw it coming too, as much as I tried to ignore and prevent it. It was there when I had to leave, when he would wave me goodnight it was there. As warm as his pod would become with the smell of cookies and apples, and the sound of us laughing and teasing each other, I couldn't help but feel that the second I walked out the door the temperature inside the soft green Foster Pod plunged 30 degrees. It could be argued that he was worse after I left, because now he was alone…but this time he didn't want to be.

As we got older Branch got worse. I would show up with arms full of sweets that I KNOW he likes, only for him to open the door red eyed as he turns me away saying that he wanted to be alone. I remember the first time he did this, I was all cheerful, skipping down the Bark road. The sun was down and the luminescent plants and bugs surrounding the trees we call home reminded me of a dream. I could hear soft bongos playing above me to the right, and slow ukulele music below me on my left. I giggled, maybe this is a dream. If it is, then maybe I could convince Branch to go on a walk with me, after I win the first game that is. When his pod came into view in the distance, I was a little taken aback to see that it wasn't glowing. Did he go to bed? I continued moving towards it just to make sure, it was only 8:00 pm, a little early to be going to sleep even if it was completely dark out. When I was close enough I noticed a soft glow peeking through the hairs of the pod. Oh good, he's awake! He's probably just reading in the candle light. I grinned and bolted for the door, not very mindful of the hot cider I started to spill, but I was excited! Can you blame me?

Skidding to a stop I carefully set down the cider and the double fudge cookies to calmly knock on his door.

"BRANCH, BRANCH, BRANCH, BRANCH, BRANCH, BRANCH!" I quickly, (and elegantly) rammed my fist against his (thankfully sturdy) bark door. There was a crash, a bang, and a lot of muffled noise that Branch was clearly trying to shhh. I stood there waiting, he had his pod glow back to life, which was slightly unfortunate for my unadjusted eyes. More random noises, a dragging of a box, a drawer being slammed shut, only to be opened then slammed again. The assault of non-musical sound stopped, a moment passes, and he finally swings the door open.

Branch looked at me with a half glare while grabbing his heart, "Geez Poppy, are you trying to give me a heart attack!? I could have been sleeping or holding something sharp for all you know!" I giggled at how serious he was about knocking. "Oh, come on grumpy, this isn't the first time I've done it and you weren't half as upset about it then. Besides, I knew you weren't sleeping. I saw candle light through your pod and its only eight something, no way you would go to sleep that early." Holding the doorframe as if it was a life line he hung his head and sighed. "Poppy, why are you here? Did Satin and Chenille convince you to talk me into trying a "New Look". Because If so, you can tell them that for the 39th time, no means No." He crossed this arms at the last part to emphasize his point. I just looked at him slightly confused but not surprised. Once the twins have an idea for someone's clothes, they can get a little…determined, yeah…that's the word I'm looking for.

"Uhh no, but I'm sure you have a great story behind that and you can tell me all about it…" I quickly grab my treats "…during an intense game of scrabble!" and hold them out to Branch, expecting him to take them to bring inside. I'm grinning from ear to ear holding out my arms, while he just stands there with a look on his face that I now know is the look you give someone when you're trying to come up with a way to brake bad-news to them.

I'm still standing, smile still wide, I look down at the treats, then to Branch and back again. I even shake my peace offerings to say 'now's your cue to take it'.

"Poppy, not tonight" he said it slowly, and started to back up into his doorway. My arms dropped and a few cookies sadly met the ground. I must of looked as lost as I sounded. "But…it's our tradition. Just us, no loud singing, no The Bergens Are Coming, it's our thing" After I said that I somehow, SOMEHOW only now noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and the skin around his nose was pinkish, he had been crying.

How could I be so selfish! The only reason this became a thing in the first place was because it was an attempt to make him feel better, for him to not feel alone. And here I am, complaining that I can't try to beat him at scrabble again.

I set my stuff down not taking my eyes off of him, my voice was softer when I tried to comfort him.

"Oh, oh Branch. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize." Every fiber of my being was telling me to hug him, but I knew he wasn't a fan and my dad's warning to not drive him away rang in my mind. I had to try though, right? I slowly start to move closer, my arms opening and he takes another step back. I lowered them back down and twiddled with my fingers, not sure what to do with my hands now. "Do…do you want to talk about it. I brought those cookies I made last time, the ones that turned your mouth black, though you kept eating them. We can go inside an…"

"Nonononono, Poppy no, uh, I'm sorry I really am, but I just want to be alone right now, I NEED to be alone right now." He sounded as if he was going to fall apart any second.

I shifted uncomfortably a little, I wanted so badly to reach out to him and pull him close. "Oh, Branch you don't need to be alone. Especially not right now, you're my friend and I want to help you."

Branch forced a smile and once again tried to get me to leave him to cry in the dark, alone by himself. "Another time Poppy really, tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or all of those days…but not today, please."

I was a little taken aback by how persistent he was with this. Normally the deal was, I come over with peace offerings in the form of sugary goodness, he acts like he's annoyed but he lets me in anyway. We play Jenga while either he's trying to convert me to whatever conspiracy theory he's currently obsessed with, or I'm trying to talk him into going on a walk at the top of the Troll Tree to see all the shining lights bleed into the stars. He then goes off on safety hazards and or aliens, whichever he's in the mood for. I peak into his pod trying to find something, anything that could be a clue as to what got him so upset. And lo-and-behold, there on his desk, is a single chocolate cupcake with a candle in it. That must have been the glow from earlier, but why? It's not his birthday? I don't know what to think of it so I don't bring it up. "Look Branch. I don't know what's wrong, or why you're so sad, but I'm your friend and I want to help, please. You want to be alone, ok I get it, but sitting in the dark can't be healthy. Dads home right now, he actually asked me to say hello to you for him, so why don't you come with me, yeah, and you can say hello to him in person." I carefully reach for his hand and I'm encouraged when he squeezes mine. I pull him gently out of his door way. "…You can even spend the night, I promise no singing, no loud music, no shouting, none of that, I promise." He stops walking, his head is hanging and tears were dripping onto the moss below and I start to panic "…W-w-we-we can eat, we can play cards, we can tell stories, we can just sit in complete silence if you want, just…..please…please come with me." I was begging, I'm not hiding it. I was begging for him to follow me back to my pod, where I knew that he would be safe from himself.

Branch looks up, his eyes blood shot and wet, he squeezes my hand one more time before letting go. With a surprising amount of control in his voice he says to me. "Poppy, go home. I need to be alone right now. I WANT to be alone. It's dark out so be careful on your way back, and Poppy, right now for the love of all things Troll. Leave Me Alone." He turned back towards his pod as I watched, I was frozen. He didn't look back before he closed his door, the green glow of his pod faded back into nothing but a dark tear drop shape. I stood there, and I watched the light from the candle until it was finally blown out.

My stuff was still waiting outside his door and while a part of me wanted to just leave it, I instead used it as an excuse to walk back up to the pods entrance and I listened for anything. After about 3 minutes there was a sharp intake of breath, then a sniffle followed by a muffled sob, then I felt my heart break. I just sat there, listening to my friend being miserable while I couldn't do anything. I had to hold back my own tears as the sobs continued. I leaned my back against his pod and decided that he wasn't going to go through this alone, whether he knew it or not. So, that's exactly what I did. After about an hour he slowed to a stop, I listened closely and caught soft snores. Another piece of my heart broke, my friend just literally cried himself to sleep.

I picked myself up along with my things and started walking back the way I came, leaving a trail of cold apple cider behind me.


End file.
